The Bully"Knock, knock!" came a voice from the door.
"Who's there?" said the young Sherlock Holmes.
"It's Lastrade."
"Lastrade who?"
"Holmes, this is no time for jokes," said a very disheveled Lastrade who came up into the tree house. "There is someone who needs your help."
"I don't get it," I said.
"Watson, it appears there is someone who needs our help at the beach"
"How do you know?" I asked.
"Lastrade just came from there. His pants had dried salt. Obviously the salt water evaporated."
"How could you know that you stupid head?" challenged the irate Lastrade.
"Well I set your pants on fire and the flames are orange."
"What? Ow! Ow! Hot!"
I marveled as Lastrade put out the fire. Sherlock could figure out anything. Sherlock and I had made this tree house so we could enjoy the summer. It wouldn't be long before we would be headed off to fourth grade. It looked like we would be spending the day playing detective. My mischievous yet brilliant friend often had to help out the other kids.
"Anyway, there is a bully at the beach. He's bigger than all of us and a poopy head."
"Right-ho. I will use my scientific abilities to stop the bully. Come Watson. A few stops and then it's off to the beach."
We arrived at the beach. "Don't forget the Sunscreen, Sherlock!"
"Aww, Mom!" We had arrived at the beach. Kids frolicked among the waves and the sand. "Watson. I will find the bully and challenge him to a series of, well, challenges."
"What kind of challenges?"
"A running contest, a swimming contest, and whoever can do the best magic. It did not take long for us to find the bully. He was busy kicking over sand castles about a hundred meters from us.
"Attention you rapscallion. I will face you in three challenges. If I win, you will stop being a meanie."
The bully turned around. His face was covered in freckles. He had a huge nose and a unibrow. I had never been more terrified in my life.
"And what do I get if I win?"
"You name it."
"OK. I'll get your magnifying glass when I win. Name the challenge."
"First we will have a race. Whosoever gets to the volleyball nets first will win. Count us off, Watson."
"Jolly good. One, two, three!" I watched as the bully shot off like an ugly cannon ball, while Sherlock trotted along. What was Holmes doing?
The bully won easily. "What were you doing, Holmes?"
"I was lulling the bully into a false sense of security. Now, Watson, you will have to do something during the next race. You will have to put this powder down the bully's shorts."
"Do I have to? That sounds weird."
"Trust me, Watson."
It was time for the second race. It was a swimming race, and the swimmers would be timed. Whoever had the fastest time would be the victor. Holmes went first. With a "tallyho!" he dived in. While the bully watched him, I snuck behind. I poured the powder down the back of his trunks.
He turned around after the lot of it had been placed in his pants. "What are you doing?"
"Um...It's a good luck wedgie!" I said, and then I gave him the old heave-ho. I then ran for my life. I was lucky it was his turn or I would have been mashed. He got ready to swim. He dived...and his pants swelled into what must be a very comfortable position.
"It is sodium polyacrylate. It becomes a thick jell when it touches moisture."
"Smashing, old chum."
It took the bully quite a while to complete the race with that cumbersome amount of material in his pants. The bully was trying to regain his dignity and did not suspect Holmes or me.
"Now we have a magic contest. Whoever can do the best trick wins." A crowd had gathered to watch the show. "Ladies and gentlemen, lend me your ears. I will now turn water ice cold. Excuse me handsome," he addressed the bully, "If you could please get in this tide pool." The bully grudgingly entered the pool. "I will now make the water ice cold." Holmes got a large bag of white powder and cast it into the pool. Almost instantly, the bully began to shiver.
"H-h-h-how did you d-d-do that? That's incredible. I can't beat that. You win."
"How did you do that, Sherlock?" I asked.
"Simple chemistry. Potassium bromide in water creates an endothermic reaction."
"Where did you get that stuff?" I asked.
"I solved a mystery for a science teacher by the name of Steven Brügge. He paid me in chemicals."
"That came in handy, but that Brügge sounds kind of cheap. Say, Sherlock, do you know of a chemical that can cure sunburn?"
"No, why?"
I poked his red back and he instantly knew.